George Washington Township, New Jersey has been relatively quiet ever since it was turned upside down following a high profile kidnapping. During the lull in excitement Detective Claire Goodnite has enjoyed being in the love bubble with the sexy SAIC Wesley O’Connell.   Never fully believing that she was capable of a committed relationship—with Wes or with anyone—leaves Claire feeling undeserving of the elusive happily ever after. She has never let herself enjoy what was within her grasp . . .   Until a string of murdered women dressed and posed like sleeping dolls shakes the very foundation of everything Claire thought she knew. Particularly when the only connection to be found between the three victims is the man who finally stole her heart for keeps, Wes.   But it’s like she always said, she’s bad at love.

What. The. Fuck. I had sat down at my desk and opened a manila envelope that was left on top of my stack of mail. It had seemed harmless enough. But it wasn’t. I blink my eyes over and over trying to make my brain process what it’s seeing—but I can’t. I can’t unsee the images in the stack of pictures in my hand. Giant glossy eight by tens from different angles so there is absolutely no doubt that my heart is breaking. And it is broken. It’s not just broken, it’s shattered. “It’s not what it looks like,” I hear from behind me as he looks over my shoulder and I have to grit my teeth to keep from screaming. I shuffle the pictures sliding the top one to the back of the stack so that I can see the next one. This one is zoomed in. His head is tipped back and his face is distorted with both lust and passion as she straddles his lap. Her hands hold his to her breasts and I can see the play of tendons flexing through them as he grips them tight. It was only two nights ago that his hands were on my own breasts in much the same way as I rode his cock on the sofa. “Claire, did you hear me?” he asks but I shuffle the stack again. In this picture, he has his arms wrapped around her back and he’s pulling her close, her breasts mashed up against his strong chest. Her hands with long, red painted talons press in on either side of his face and as they kiss hungrily, their mouths open as their tongues tangle. “Goddamnit, Claire! Did you hear me?” My spine turns to steel. “I did. I’m just choosing to ignore you,” I respond coolly. “Don’t do this, baby,” he pleads. “I’m not the one who did anything,” I snap. “I can explain.” But I’m not interested in listening to him plead a case when he is more than guilty. “I’m going to need you to leave, Wes.” “No.” “This changes everything,” I say so softly even I struggle to hear the words that are coming out of my mouth. “This changes nothing! Fuck that, Claire,” he yells. “You want to run away. You have always wanted to run away. And here is your fucking reason to served up on a goddamn silver platter.” Everyone around us in the bullpen is doing everything they can to make it appear that they are not listening, not studying the tragic demise of Claire and Wes with rapt attention. But we all know that they are. “No,” I shout back as I throw the stack of glossy betrayal down on top of my desk. I push my rolly chair back and stand. It slams into the desk behind mine. “You do not get to come in here, where I work, and tell me that I am to blame for your bullshit.” “Okay,” he says quickly as he holds his hands up in surrender. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I can see you need time.” “I need a lot of things. One of them is definitely distance.” “I don’t know if I can give you that. I can’t lose you, baby.” His words burn hot behind my eyes and the last thing I want is for the guys in the bullpen to see me cry. “You should have thought about that before you fooled around with that stripper.” “Claire—” he starts but I don’t let him finish. “You need to go now,” I say softly. I stand with my feet apart, my hands on my hips, and my head bowed as if I’m waiting for a blow. But I see him clearly even if only in my peripheral. He looks at me and opens his mouth as if he’s going to try to explain again. Something in my stance must have told him it was a losing battle because he snaps his mouth closed before moving towards the exit. Wes pauses just before opening the door to turn and look back at me, I see him in my peripheral, but I’m looking at his lies and deceit spread across my desk for all to see. He pulls open the door and slams it on his way out. I’m Detective Claire Goodnite and this is how my heart breaks.

Jennifer is a thirty something lover of words, all words: the written, the spoken, the sung (even poorly), the sweet, the funny, and even the four letter variety. She is a native of San Diego, California where she grew up reading the Brownings and Rebecca with her mother and Clifford and the Dog who Glowed in the Dark with her dad, much to her mother’s dismay. Jennifer is a graduate of California State University San Marcos where she studied Criminology and Justice Studies. She is also an Alpha Xi Delta. 10 years ago, she was swept off her feet by her very own sailor. Today, they are happily married and the parents of a 8 year old and 6 year old twins. She can often be found in East Texas on the soccer fields, drawing with her children, or reading. Jennifer is convinced that if she puts her fitbit on one of the dogs, she might finally make her step goals. She loves a great romance, an alpha hero, and lots and lots of laughter.

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